Tuesday, July 29, 2008
This is not a picture of what I did today. Today I woke up in tent. I was sleeping in a pile of big warm multicolored maggots. Mother maggot was snoring softly in his sleep. It was raining. Outside there were Lisa Frank skies, and dolphins, and sunrises. But the sound of the rain kept a mandolin, a guitar, a violin, and five cozy maggots (in the cutest sense of the word please) indoors.
When we did dare to brave the beach we found it oozing with life and death. Rare gelationous forms flowered in shallow pools of shell covered rocks, "turtles" dove seamlessly into the sand, vultures tore apart the body of a less fortunate sea bird, and our fire still burned surrounded by half empty vodka bottles, damp paper bags bursting with provisions, and several sand covered cell phones in various states of well-being.
In short the night had been plentiful, in both invention and stars.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
"What is some generally usefull information I could give you?" wrote the old goat that was sitting on a hill. "What is something I could sell to you?" The hill was green, the waiters were all tired of waiting. But they hadn't quite figured that out yet so their stomachs felt uncomfortable. The goats and butterflies dreamed of a far off desert. They thought about sunburns that could burn off mist, and birds shrilly crying like doomed roosters.